8:37am
I feel pretty good this morning. I got most everything done last night and only have a few last minute things to get through and that’s not until 4pm. I made a list yesterday with all the things that needed to get done. As I worked, the checkmark indicated that it was something I’d gotten started with, but was still working on. Crossing it out meant it was complete. The list felt impossibly complicated yesterday, but today it feels manageable. I set to work.
The pumpkin scones have defrosted overnight. They look weird. Flat and small. Maybe they’ll perk up a bit if I put them in the oven to get a bit warm and toasty while I set to the task of making the salted caramel glaze. Margarine – I think I’m on tub 8 now – brown sugar, salt. I set the flame at a medium height, stirring constantly and waiting for it to come to a boil. When it does, I add the soy cream. It goes in immediately cracking on the top into what looks like a dirt ground in a drought. I stir it in and lower the heat. I watch it simmer a while and give it a taste. It needs more sugar. Then a bit more cream. I get it to my desired consistency and take the scones out of the oven.
I lay out a plate to hold the glazed scones and begin by dipping one directly into the pan. The lava-like caramel sticks to my finger and I chirp in pain. I thrust my finger into my mouth, inadvertently transferring the heat to my tongue, which immediately burns. Good morning.
9:30am
I go out to drop off the compost. It’s so heavy I have to switch hands as I’m walking. The top of the bin is unlocked when I get there. Though I don’t like that because it means people throw in garbage that isn’t compostable, I am thrilled because I wasn’t sure how I was possibly going to be able to fit everything through the tiny slot they expect you to use.
It’s beautiful outside. Sunny. Warm. I leisurely walk to Lidl for a last few items. Salt, more margarine, some crackers, plastic wrap.
I stop on the way home at Patricia’s Coffee, another neighborhood favorite, and order myself a large oat latte. I walk slowly home savoring the flavor. Inside, I get back to work.
10:45am
I start in on the cheese balls. These are the first I’ve ever made and they’re vegan. I’m not sure how well they’ll work. I’m using Violife cream cheese, which is delicious and has a fantastic texture, but I know from spreading it on warm bread in the past that it tends to dissolve into nothingness when too warm, so I need to strike the right balance between warm enough to blend and cool enough to remain cheese.
I put the cream cheese into a bowl and find it’s too hard to mush about. What I wouldn’t give to be reunited with my boxed-up-in –the-attic-at-my-mom’s KitchenAid stand mixer now! I put the cheese in the microwave watching it with eagle eyes to be sure it doesn’t melt. 10 seconds pass and I pull it out. Seems to be okay. I mix in garlic granules, basil, and salt along with some crushed walnuts. I grate in cheddar and form it into a ball shape and plop it onto a small gold-rimmed plate. I pack the outside with pumpkin seeds and put it in the fridge to harden.
Onto the next. I scoop some hardened honey onto the cream cheese and put them into the microwave, but this time I realize the honey has gotten so hot it’s melting the cream cheese. A bit panicky, I put the bowl directly into the freezer to cool down. Meanwhile, I chop more walnuts and dried raisins and grate some cheddar. A while later, the cream cheese seems to have stabilized a bit and I add these ingredients, form another ball, lay it out on another tiny gold-rimmed plate, and pop it in the freezer next to the other.
12:30pm
I’ve been picking a bit at things I’m cooking all morning, but I’m actually getting hungry. Not having the capacity physically nor mentally to cook anything else, I begin toasting the defrosted cornbread in the oven, as much as I can fit at a time. I make a small meal of warmed cornbread and vegan cheddar. That’s enough to get me through.
I partially peel and thinly slice Bosc pears, finely chop spring onions, and mix together lettuce for the salad. I add some pumpkin seeds to the mix and make a balsamic vinaigrette. Garlic, mustard, olive oil, vinegar, and salt. Simple. Delicious.
2:30pm
I’m out of the shower and see suddenly it’s the afternoon and time is running out. I turn on the oven and remove the filled cast iron skillets from the fridge. I prepare the pans of polenta and butternut squash bake by rubbing the tops with margarine and sprinkling a good-sized helping of parmesan on top. These will cook for an hour and sit afterward for 30 minutes before being served. This brings me right to show time!
3:08pm
My friend Robbi arrives. She’s graciously offered to come by early and help set up. I immediately set her to the task of laying out the crackers on the cheese plates. I’ve bought 4 kinds – store brand Ritz, rosemary water crackers, sea salt water crackers, and Scottish oat cakes. She also decants the candied walnuts. She does a lovely job of it and the table in the hallway looks tasty and inviting.
I ask her to begin defrosting and creating a mixture of corn and peas. While she does that, I begin running round the house collecting all the dishes and bringing them into the kitchen. As the kitchen has been kept very warm the past few days by the oven constantly being on, I have been arranging the food in other locations around the house where it’s drafty and cold. It reminds me of the “front hall” my grandparent’s second refrigerator. They kept the jug of Carlo Rossi table wine out there and all the Christmas cookies. Someone was always making a trip there to bring in the extra food. Maybe the current heating and fuel crisis isn’t so bad, as it’s keeping the house at a temperature able to keep food safe.
Robbi begins arranging the dishes around the kitchen and taking the covers off.
4pm
The first guest arrives, my dear friend Richard Marsden. He’s brought along miniature mince pies. He helps me set up the dessert table with the broken leg in the other room.
I take the tea towel off the top of the pumpkin espresso bundt cake and poke some discreet holes in the top and middle. Over the cake I pour a mixture of espresso, brown sugar, and rum that I made the night before.
I make some quick signs to hang on the wall, reminding people they can heat their plates in the microwave, as it’s not possible to get all the food to the same temperature at the same time in my tiny oven. I ask them to think of something they’re thankful for – to tell someone here tonight if they’re thankful for them. A few people immediately say they’re thankful for me and the meal.
5pm
Most of the guests have arrived now and those who arrived “on time” have been waiting an hour having some drinks or picking at the cheese boards. People have contributed beautiful wines including a very fancy Pinot Noir from 2016 and a biological Italian white. Friends’ babies and toddlers and dogs are running around and I feel warm and full without having eaten, yet.
I make an announcement welcoming everyone and thanking them for coming along. I remind them that this holiday is controversial, at best, and that I don’t want to ignore that, but that I do hope to use it as a way of saying thanks to all of them for their friendship, love, and support for me throughout the year. I point out a few of the new dishes this year including the cauliflower stuffing bake. My guests stand armed with their plates and ready to dig in. Not needing to delay things any longer, I tell them all to eat and they do.
7pm
Friends begin asking if I’ve eaten yet. I haven’t, but I’m beginning to get hungry. Somehow in all the excitement and stress, I’ve forgotten to get a plate. I go in a fill up. Cabbage, cauliflower stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, macaroni and cheese, parsnips and carrots, corn and peas, Brussels sprouts, corn bread, green salad, couscous salad, and some polenta. I get about halfway through my plate and already feel full. I slowly make my way through the rest of it over the course of an hour.
As I make my way to the various areas where guests have sat, they keep plying me with drinks. Jammy whites, fruity reds, and Prosecco. Mike comes and makes something of a mulled wine he calls Gluggy – I’m imagining how it might be spelled. Is this a version his mid-western family made or something from his Finnish side? Either way, I see large pieces of ginger floating and raisins sinking to the bottom and Mike happily cooking away at my stove. I feel so happy that I have friends comfortable enough they know how things work at my home and feel empowered to participate.
For the rest of the night, I insist to everyone leaving that they take home a plate full of leftovers for tomorrow’s meals. Some people, new to the festivities, act demure and try to resist saying they couldn’t possibly. They’re so full. I remind them they’ll be hungry again tomorrow and they go dutifully into the kitchen to retrieve the goods. Most people, knowing how this works, come to me to say goodbye, full plate or takeaway container in hand to show they’ve followed the house rules of being constantly fed. Ursula tells me she remembers me “laying into someone” last year for refusing to take food and that she “would never not”. I can only laugh.
12:30am
It’s a Sunday – a “school night” for most people – and it’s time to go home for the last few who stayed to play a few party games and pick at desserts. Dan kindly boxes up foods and puts them in the fridge and tries to make the next day’s clean up that much easier on me. I start to feel a bit heavy and sleepy and dreamy from all the food and the wine. Some guests have brought me gifts – flowers, figurines, and handmade treasures. All of them have brought me warmth and light in a dark time of year.
Having not celebrated this holiday for several years for personal reasons, I eventually went back to it hardcore. The prep and the party grow grander each year and the people become more expectant of what is to come. Candice called it the “annual miracle that is Thanksgiving dinner”. I’m elated. More so, I’m thankful.
This week we’ve very excited about having giacinta frisillo sharing with us from Glasgow via New York: giacinta frisillo (she, they) (@giacinta_frisillo , @_glovestory_) is a visual and performance artist and community educator. she loves cats and hates capital letters. This week, giacinta is having a Thanksgiving meal, feeding friends, serving them with the best autumnal foods and we are looking forward to hearing threads of her thought processing what Thanksgiving means to her.
As ever, get in touch if you too would like to have a week writing on the Gazette, it’s open to all. Best,
Sinae+Kate